“Becauseyouwere there, looking damn hot and dirty dancing with other guys. Alex said they’d planned just to grab a couple of drinks and have some fun, but that all went out the door—when you came in the door.”
“He doesn’t care about me, Meghan. It was just coincidental.”
She sighed. “Fine. Then what about you? Why were you so eager to go to The Road Block last night, when you knew Alex and Flynn were going to be there?”
“Isn’t it against the Geneva Convention to interrogate a prisoner who’s on the verge of death?” I burrowed into the pillow again.
“Um, first, no, I don’t think it is. Second, you’re not on the verge of death. Third, I’m not interrogating you. I’m just asking questions that might reveal some truths.”
“Well, I’m not ready for it yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow I’ll be back in Savannah.”
“Bingo.”
Meghan didn’t respond, but I heard the exasperation in her sigh as she stomped out of the room and down the steps. Or maybe it just sounded like she was stomping, since each step reverberated in my pounding brain.
I dozed off and on for the next hour, and by the time I opened my eyes again, the drill team in my head had taken a break and my stomach was more receptive to the idea of food. I sat up, moving slowly and experimentally. When it didn’t kill me, I ventured one hand out to snag a piece of toast. It was cold, but I managed to nibble at it until I got half a slice down. At that point, I felt safe enough to swig some water along with the headache meds.
By noon, I’d crawled out of bed and into the shower. I couldn’t manage anything more ambitious than a pair of sweat pants and an old oversized T-shirt, but at least I was upright. I braided my wet hair into a single plait down my back and descended the steps, into the kitchen.
“She lives!” Meghan still sounded far too chipper as she wiped the counter. “And just in time. I’m getting ready to leave.”
“Isn’t it a little early?” She usually stayed at the farm through Sunday night and drove back to Savannah Monday morning, since she didn’t have an early class.
“Yeah, but my mom and Logan are coming up to visit me tomorrow, and I want to make sure my apartment’s in decent shape.”
“That’s nice.” I eased myself into a kitchen chair. “Are you excited to see them?” Meghan’s mother and her husband, who’d been a lifelong friend of Meghan’s late father, were usually so busy with their restaurant that they didn’t make it up to Savannah often.
“Yeah. Though I’m pretty sure it’s a fact-finding mission disguised as a family visit.”
“What kind of facts?”
“The what-is-Meghan-planning-to-do-after-graduation-this-year facts. They act like they’re laid back and fine with whatever I decide—and they probably are—but they want some definite plans.”
“Well, you’ve got a job already. That’s more than most college grads have.”
“And they’re thrilled with that. I think maybe they just want some assurance that Sam’s intentions toward me are honorable and long-term.” Meghan shook her head. “Like he could ever be anything else.”
“In other words, they want a ring on your finger before you move in with us for real?” I leaned my chin on my hand.
“Maybe. Which is so weird, because my mom’s never been like that. She raised me to be strong and independent, not to need a man to make me complete.”
The kitchen door creaked open, and my brother came in. “You don’t need me to make you complete?” He snagged Meghan’s hand and pulled her in to him.
“How did you hear that? Were you standing outside the door eavesdropping?” She sounded offended, but her hands snaked up to clasp together behind his neck as she fit her body to his.
A pang of wistful envy hit me in the chest. I loved my brother and Meghan, and their happiness made me happy. But it also had the unpleasant side effect of making me painfully aware of my own lacking. The memory of Flynn, standing on the bar last night and playing the air guitar as he belted out one of my favorite Elvis songs, flashed across my mind with odd clarity.
“I wasn’t trying to listen. The window’s open.” Sam kissed the top of her head and winked at me. “Didn’t expect to see you up and around yet. Quite a night you had.”
I laid my head down on my folded arms. “Don’t remind me. It happened, it’s over, let us never speak of it again. The next time I beg you to take me dancing, lock me in my room.”
“I’d like to get that in writing.” Sam rubbed his hand up and down Meghan’s back. “Are you heading out, babe?”
“I am. If you’re sure you’ve got everything covered here.”
“Yeah, we’re good.” But he didn’t make a move to let her go. Instead he looked at me again. “I stopped at the stand on my way back from the fields. Cassie says she’s got everything under control, and she’ll call us if things get too busy. And she said she hopes you feel better.”
